At the height of its success, the global beauty brand Avon was selling four lipsticks a second. Now, the talcum powder that once made the legacy label a worldwide hit is more closely aligned with its undoing. This week, following hundreds of lawsuits which allege that the talc in its beauty products contained asbestos – causing cancer – Avon Products Inc declared bankruptcy.
While the company has continually denied the claims, saying that it only uses “cosmetic grade talc which has been tested to confirm that it does not contain asbestos”, it is now without “sufficient liquidity” to pay off the £1 billion-and-counting that it owes. In the interim, says their CEO Kristof Neirynck, they “remain focused on advancing our business strategy internationally, including modernising our direct selling model and reigniting the brand to accelerate growth”.
The company’s troubles started before the talc debacle. Founded in 1886, a decade ago it was “one of the top three beauty brands in the country” according to its website – but it has struggled to retain its place in an industry in which products for every skin tone and type are available at the tap of a smartphone.
“I don’t envy Avon right now,” says Ruby Hammer, make-up artist and founder of Ruby Hammer Beauty. While she once loved its lipsticks and liners, and relied on its (now-discontinued) Mega Effects Mascara, she says that Avon has been left, like many heritage outfits, to fight an uphill battle against “the pace and momentum of the newer younger brands dropping products and content continuously… there is so much noise it is harder than ever to break through.”
What was once Avon’s USP – appealing to all women – simply no longer works in today’s market, says Anita Bhagwandas, author of Ugly: Why the World Became Beauty Obsessed and How to Break Free. “There are so many different brands and so much on offer now that are very specific and bespoke to people, and I think Avon has slightly lost its way.”
The commerciality of TikTok tutorials and celebrity beauty lines could hardly have been imagined by the company’s founder, door-to-door book salesman David H McConnell. At the close of the 19th century, he identified a market in the women waiting for their husbands to return from work, offering a free gift with each purchase (plus the companionship provided from that knock on the door). The brand’s popularity soared.
Its glossy catalogues – featuring rose perfume, pink and white face powder – and its first print advert in Good Housekeeping in 1906 helped change the reputation of cosmetics. A “painted face”, once considered a sign of immorality, would be increasingly acceptable by the 1920s; in 1931, Good Housekeeping (at that time, the housewife’s bible) gave its seal of approval to 11 Avon products, then a record for one firm.
By the time the brand launched in the UK in 1959, Bhagwandas says Avon had successfully turned the intimidating and often negative messaging of make-up marketing on its head.
With the help of the ‘Ding-Dong, Avon Calling’ campaign – one of the longest-running and most successful in history – the brand became “really kitschy and fun; just a different take on beauty”, says Bhagwandas. “Post-war, people were looking for a bit of joy, and I think Avon brought that.”
It wasn’t only customers buying in. Vicky Borman remembers the brand providing both “a lifeline and a network” for her grandmother, who became an “Avon lady” in the late 60s.
Like the Beatles before them, a slew of British brands are taking the US by storm with their whimsical dresses and cosy knitwear.The Guardian’s journalism is